


What to Say When Coming Home?

by i_am_made_of_memoriies



Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Lesbians in Space, can you tell I just love Nastya a lot, immortals hate feelings okay, takes place after out, the void of space highkey sucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:20:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24121231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_am_made_of_memoriies/pseuds/i_am_made_of_memoriies
Summary: The Aurora was silent when Nastya stumbled through the airlock, thawing frost dripping from her hair. Her legs shook violently beneath her as she shifted her weight onto the clean, white wall beside her. After weeks floating through space, she had forgotten how the cool flow of oxygen in her lungs felt as well as the sound of the slow, yet persistent thrumming of her heart. The toll of repairing her body was beginning to set in as black dots danced in front of her vision. Slowly, she allowed herself to slip down the wall and into a dreamless sleep. For once, The Aurora did not lull her to sleep with sweet songs or soothing humming
Relationships: The Aurora/Nastya Rasputina
Comments: 24
Kudos: 125





	1. Commiseration

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you kaz from the stowaways server for beta-ing this!! Working title: The Cold Void of Space is not Cash Money

The Aurora was silent when Nastya stumbled through the airlock, thawing frost dripping from her hair. Her legs shook violently beneath her as she shifted her weight onto the clean, white wall beside her. After weeks floating through space, she had forgotten how the cool flow of oxygen in her lungs felt as well as the sound of the slow, yet persistent thrumming of her heart. The toll of repairing her body was beginning to set in as black dots danced in front of her vision. Slowly, she allowed herself to slip down the wall and into a dreamless sleep. For once, The Aurora did not lull her to sleep with sweet songs or soothing humming. 

* * *

Nastya did not wake up propped up against the wall of the airlock. She was somewhere warm, wrapped in a soft blanket. Someone had taken the time to take off her boots. Instinctively, her hand went to the wall nearest to her, running a gentle thumb over the panelling. The Aurora was still silent.

“How do you feel, Nastya?” A voice rang out from somewhere behind where she was sitting. 

Slowly, she turned her head to find Brian sitting at the pilots chair, his posture suggesting unease. It was only fitting that he brought her in, wasn’t it? Someone else who shared an intimate knowledge of the void of space. Someone else who had felt the cold soak deep into their bones. Brian had felt his heart slow to a stop as well, though Nastya supposed his heart had more to lose. Forming words seemed unfathomable at the moment, so she just shook her head and wrapped the blanket tighter around her shoulders. None of the Mechanisms were particularly fond of displaying weakness; when you are immortal, putting on a façade of invincibility is far easier than accepting fallibility–or even acknowledging that you have emotions. 

Brian hesitated for a moment before rising from his seat, his brass hand lingering on the armrest for a moment. With careful steps, he walked over to Nastya and sat down, cross-legged, next to her. He was far enough not to touch her, but close enough to provide comfort. They sat in silence for several moments. Time on The Aurora never meant anything, really, and if you had infinite time, minutes were as inconsequential as hours. 

Finally, Nastya exhaled a shaky breath and ran her fingers through her hair, long since fallen out of its ponytail. It was longer than she usually liked. 

“It was cold,” she muttered, her gaze fixed on the paisley pattern of the blanket. Her Cyberian accent, long since diluted by other accents and dialects, crept back into her voice. She had been cold before, hadn’t she? When Carmilla drained her of her real blood and replaced it with something slower, and much, much colder.

“It’s warm here, though,” Brian offered, trying to meet Nastya’s gaze. Her eyes shied firmly away. “It will always be warm here.”

Nastya nodded, though she was obviously not convinced. “Does Jonny know I’m back?” Out of all of the Mechanisms, she was closest to Jonny. She had known him the longest, comforted him through Carmilla’s experimentation, and followed him on to many violent heists to count. She regretted nothing more than leaving Jonny without expressing her love for him, but the prospect of seeing him at that moment filled her with dread.

“Not yet.” Brian’s voice was quiet and slow–an attempt at comforting. “I can tell him if you’d like.”

“No, I would like to wait a little longer.” She would talk to Jonny eventually; he deserved that much, but it would have to be later.

They lapsed into another long silence. Nastya’s limbs were no longer shaking. With heavy hands, she removed the blanket from her shoulders and shrugged off her thick coat. 

“I’m glad you’re back,” Brian said, offering a small smile. 

“Space is awful. I couldn’t bear to stay there for any longer. And I never should have left in the first place. I was being–” she stopped for a moment, weighing her words. “I was being selfish.”

“I can leave you, if you’d like a moment to yourself.”

With that, Nastya’s eyes grew in panic, her hand tightening its grip on her coat. Images of the bone-deep darkness of space flashed before her eyes. The darkness stretched on indefinitely, suffocating her in it’s freezing grasp. “Could you stay?” Her voice was barely a whisper. 

“Of course.” Brian scooted a little closer to Nastya, still not making contact. “It is very lonely out there.”

Nastya nodded, a weak smile overcoming her features. “Stars are not good company.” She ran another hand through her hair, her fingers catching on stubborn tangles at the bottom. “Thank you for bringing me in from the airlock.” Her tone was earnest. “After I left all of you, you offered me a kindness I did not deserve.”

Brian shook his head, her brows furrowing with concern. “I don’t know why you left us–Jonny never told anyone–but you are my friend, as you have been for thousands of years.”

None of the crew on the ship Aurora enjoyed admitting their friendship with other crew members; it was an acknowledgement of tenderness and emotion, two things the Mechanisms avoided like Space Plague. Nastya found herself at a loss for words; yes, she did reciprocate Brian’s feelings of friendship, but she’d already displayed vulnerability. Instead of responding, she offered Brian a warm smile and placed her hand on top of his. 

“I think I’m going to shower.” Nastya pushed herself onto her feet, using the wall for balance for just a moment. “There are a few conversations I need to have.”

  
  



	2. Advice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's always Nastya loving hours over here.

Despite the lack of distinct days or nights on The Aurora, the crew attempted to maintain some semblance of a daily schedule. By the time Nastya had finished showering and combing stubborn tangles out of her hair, she speculated that it was shortly after dinner time. Not only was The Aurora quiet beneath her feet, but the crew was quiet as well. She could not hear any explosions or yelling from the far corners of the ship. If she had not seen Brian earlier, she would have been under the impression the crew went on a heist all together. 

Fastening the last few buttons of her shirt (which previously belonged to Jonny), she steadied herself and set out into The Aurora’s hallways in search for the first mate. Nastya knew that when he was not stalking the hallways of the ship, his hand rested on his gun, he was in his room, fixing any clothes the crew had managed to tear. From her position in the hallways, she could not hear Jonny’s telltale footsteps, so she made her way to his room, her steps apprehensive. What was she supposed to say other than apologize and hope that Jonny did not despise her? 

Months–maybe years? She was unsure–in space offered ample time to reflect. Yes, Nastya was hurt. This Aurora was not the ship she woke up on all those centuries ago, nor was it the ship in who’s veins she hid after Doctor Carmilla’s first experiments. This Aurora was not even the ship that insisted on bringing in the Briar Rose. But everyone changes and Nastya would be cruel to expect Aurora not to do the same. Jonny was a bit of a romantic at heart, he may just understand Nastya’s predicament. 

She stopped in front of Jonny’s door, taking a moment to gaze blankly at the shining metal. She closed her eyes for a moment, nodding slowly to herself, before raising her fist and knocking on the door. She had always just barged in before, hadn't she? 

“If you need me to fix something, just leave it outside the door,” Jonny called from inside his room. 

Nastya’s lips curved into a melancholy smile as she chuckled and opened the door herself. 

“Didn’t I just say to leave the–oh.” Jonny froze in the middle of a stitch, his eyes wide. Carefully, he placed his sewing on the table and stood up. 

“I-I’m so sorry–” 

“Come here.” Jonny’s tone left no room for argument as he motioned to the space on his bed beside him. 

Nastya complied, curving her shoulders inwards to take up as little space as possible. For once, Jonny was impossible to read, perhaps because he was not displaying his normal levels of rage. She didn’t dare breathe for several seconds, unsure of what Jonny would do. She let out a gasp as he wrapped an arm around her and buried his face in her shoulder, his head brushing against her still-damp hair. 

“I fucking missed you, you know?” He mumbled, his face against her shirt. A growing wet spot on her shoulder made it clear to her that Jonny was crying. 

“I’m so sorry.” She wrapped her free arm around Jonny and squeezed tight. “I should never have left.”

“No you fucking shouldn’t have.” Jonny raised his head to meet Nastya’s eyes. “Why did you come back?”

“I made a mistake and I acted impulsively. You are my family, Jonny. This whole crew is. I won’t leave again.” She leaned her head on top of his, closing her eyes as she relished the company of another person. 

Finally, Jonny untangled himself from Nastya’s embrace and glanced around the room. “I do need to finish mending the waistcoat I was working on. I still think I’ve got one of your embroidery hoops in here somewhere if you want to work with me.”

“That would be nice, thank you.” Nastya released the stress held in her shoulders and slumped back on Jonny’s bed, resting her weight on her hands. 

Rifling through boxes and messy piles of clothes, Jonny threw random clothes, weapons, and assorted pieces of fabric behind him. “Aha, got it!” He announced, brandishing an embroidery hoop with a blank sheet of fabric already in it. He tossed it to her, tossing a heap of neatly wound embroidery thread shortly after. Thankfully, he handed Nastya a needle instead of throwing it like a mini javelin. 

Nastya sat up straighter, threading the needle with quick precision. Embroidery was the only skill she learned as a princess that she still enjoyed to this day. 

“So, Ashes got into the kitchen a couple weeks ago,” Jonny mentioned off-handedly. “But Brian noticed them fiddling with the oven before anything caught fire and shepherded them to Raph’s lab since she was looking for a test subject. We somehow avoided a full kitchen fire.”

“Brian actually stopped Ashes?” Nastya let out a dry chuckle. “Was he on Bastard Brian Mode?”

“No, that’s why he didn’t just murder them on the spot.” 

“Ah, that makes sense.”

Jonny took in a sharp breath and dropped his eyes back to his stitches. “Marius hasn’t played any violin since you left.”

Nastya merely nodded. Of all of the crew members, it did not make sense for Marius to react to her leaving. The fact that she often played viola rarely diluted any of the competition between the two, manifesting in slightly hostile motivation to improve at best, and downright violent competition at worst. His reaction only deepened her shame and guilt. 

“What are you making?” Jonny turned back to the waistcoat, visibly changing the subject. “If you make another field of flowers, I have a jacket I’d like to add that to.”

“I’m making something for  _ her  _ right now, but I can make your patch afterwards.” She did not have to say Aurora’s name for Jonny to understand who she was talking about and her intention. Nastya always added a patch to one of the engine room’s walls when she was going through a rough time with Aurora. Despite her growing discomfort with her relationship in the prior decades, she hadn’t added any patches to the wall; she had not wanted to acknowledge obvious growing tension. 

“You want to stay here tonight?” Jonny suggested, clearing weapons off his bed and onto the floor. “Unless you want to talk to her now. She hasn’t spoken since.”

“No, I’ll stay here tonight. I will speak to her as soon as I finish the patch, tomorrow.” She shifted uncomfortably on the bed. “What should I say to her? I-I don’t even know where to start.”

“You know I don’t know shit about relationships, Nastya, this is your expertise,” Jonny groaned. “But you love her, right? Just–I don’t know–tell her about that.”

“Of course I love her, but I need to apologize first!” Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she dropped her gaze to her hands. “There’s a lot to apologize for.”

“Yeah, then do it.”

“It’s not that  _ easy,  _ Jonny!” She squeezed her eyes shut. “What if she doesn’t love me after all this?”

“Come  _ on _ , Nastya. This is the fucking Aurora you’re talking about. Think of how many eons she’s loved you for. Think of how many times you’ve fixed her and how many times you’ve fallen asleep in her fucking vents. You love her and she loves you and you fucking know it.”

Nastya placed her embroidery on the bed and let her head fall into her hands. “I know, I know. It’s just–” 

“You two will figure it out or some shit. You’re the most disgustingly romantic couple of this crew.”

Nastya nodded, throwing her legs onto the bed. “I’m tired now,” she mumbled, curling up in the left corner. 

“Alright. I’m glad you’re back, Nastya.” Jonny’s voice was barely a whisper as he flashed her a small–and incredibly rare–smile. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can SOMEONE explain to me why Jonny is so hard to write? Maybe because I'm forcing feral man to have emotions....


	3. Comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we all love one (1) starship

Nastya woke up before Jonny, as usual. She had nestled herself deep in the blankets, curled up in a tight ball. Carefully, she untangled herself and slipped off the bed, placing the blankets over Jonny, who had evidently been sleeping without them. Before she laced up her boots, she pocketed her embroidered patch, running her fingers over the raised stitches. 

She eased the door of Jonny’s room open, slipping out without waking him. None of the crew seemed to be awake yet. Somehow, she had managed to avoid running into any crew members she didn’t actively seek out–with the exception of Brian–since she returned. Perhaps they knew she was back, yet understood that she needed her space. Despite their violent and caustic personalities, the mechanisms were quite attentive to boundaries. 

Nastya followed the path down to the engine room–one that she had traversed thousands and thousands of times before. She did not run her hand against the panelling or press a quick kiss to any exposed wires as she walked, though; she needed to speak to Aurora first. The engine room door was open a crack, a soft light bleeding into the hallway. Nastya squeezed through the space, stopping right as she passed the threshold. 

“Hello, love,” she whispered, peering sheepishly at the Aurora’s control console over the rim of her glasses. “I have a lot to apologize for, don’t I?”

The lights in the room dimmed, though the Aurora did not hum in response. Nastya understood this as an invitation to begin her apology and explanation. With light steps, she made her way to the center of the room, sitting cross-legged in front of the console. 

“Aurora, you have changed, that is true.” Nastya steadied her breath. “You have changed, but so have I. We have both been alive to see civilizations rise and fall. We’ve escaped burning planets together and we’ve been through more wars and rebellions to count. I should never have left you when you’ve only ever loved me. You’re not gone and you’re still Aurora. I’m sorry. I’m back and I won’t leave you again.”

With that, the Aurora lit up, lights flickering in happiness. The floor began to hum beneath Nastya’s feet as the console glowed with an inviting warmth. She sang a low song, filling the engine room. 

“No, you have nothing to apologize for, love!” Nasta exclaimed, wrapping her arms around the console. “There is still so much time for you to relearn Cyberian. We have so much time together.”

Aurora’s song raised in pitch, her lights steadying. 

“Yes, I missed you so much. I thought of nothing but you while I was gone, and about how wrong I was to leave you. I understand if you are angry.”

She hummed low.

“Thank you for forgiving me,” she said. “Whether I deserve it or not, is an argument we do not need to have. Now, have the others roughed you up too much while I was gone?”

The Aurora’s lights flickered with laughter as the engine room grew with pleasant warmth. 

“Oh really? That surprises me. Tim hasn’t blown anything up?” Nastya chuckled in acknowledgement of Aurora’s witty response. “Oh, I see. He hasn’t blown up any part of _you_ yet. Well, it’s good to know that I will not have to jump into work immediately.”

She slipped off her boots, stepping a bare foot onto one of Aurora’s ledges. In one swift motion, she eased herself into a vent, crawling into its depths until she could fit her whole body. The Aurora’s gentle purr released all the tension she held. She increased the volume of her song slightly, asking Nastya a question. 

“Of course I’d like to hear a story, love,” Nastya replied, running her thumb against the metal of the vents. 

She sat, propped up against the side of the vent, listening to Aurora’s sweet voice as she spun tales of galaxies far off–some that Nastya had never visited herself. In Aurora’s warm veins, she felt perfectly at home and content. Why would she ever leave someone who loved her so much?

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely speed-ran writing this when I should be working on my TMA fic, but it be like that sometimes. Surprise guys, I'm in love with Nastya and I think she deserves a lot!


End file.
